Of the Christmas dinner itself I need not write, as it was much like the one described in the “Chapter of Accidents.” The main difference was that we had seen to it that there were extra supports under the verandah and so avoided another accident.
The first part of the day had been well filled, and you must remember that the thermometer had stood at over 90 in the shade; so there was a lull in the afternoon, and then the final preparations for the evening party.
Though the verandah of the Mission house is a big one, it could not accommodate all who wished to be present, so we had to restrict the gathering to the teachers and their families, and the Delena Mission family.
There was no Christmas tree, but its place was taken by a fishpond. Every fish was named, and a little manœuvring let the man who managed the inside of the pond know the name of the fisher, and so hook on the fish he was intended to have. Big parcels sometimes contained only very small fish, but that only added to the fun.
There were not many Christmas party games we could indulge in, but the gramophone and the magnetic battery more than met the case. The mystery of the gramophone was at first awe-inspiring, and the whistling bird caused many a youngster to look round and close his hands as though he had a stone to throw. Soon the awe passed and all were laughing over the “Lancashire Lads’ Trip to London” as though they knew all about it and could follow the fun; but the “Laughing Song” was the climax, and would have gone far towards making the reputation of a man who wanted to be a master of facial expression. At the first laugh they simply looked at each other, but what looks they were. At the second they began to lose control of themselves, while at the third all control had vanished, and the gramophone could not be heard.
An entirely new set of facial contortions was the result of the introduction of the battery. Some of the children simply set their teeth tight together and took all that the machine could give them, but some of the big men writhed and rolled about; bit their lips; opened their mouths as though to shout; twisted their hands this way and that; stood first on one leg and then on the other; and finally lay down to it, and groaned “Vadaeni” (enough). They did not seem to enjoy the experience and yet were ready later on for a second, but there was no doubt about the onlookers enjoying it to the full.
Very few could be tempted to put their hands into a bucket of water connected to one of the handles of the battery, even when a prize was offered for the man who would get the nail from the bottom of the bucket.
It was ten o’clock before the party broke up. Every hour had been filled since six in the morning, and no room had been found for the boat and canoe races. We were all very tired, but very happy, and looked forward to finishing the programme on the morrow.
A Well-oiled Amazon.